Exploring Texts of the Past Summer Semester 2014

Around the World on Wheels

When I consented to the plan of going

around the world I intended to make the

trip alone, but my wife pleaded so hard to

accompany me that I finally concluded to

take her. She is a brave little girl, and rather

than considering her a burden, I now look

upon her as having been of great help to me

on our memorable voyage. Aside from the

fact that she is an expert wheelwoman, she

is also an unerring shot. Nerve she pos-

sesses in abundance, as all will agree after reading of the adventures which befell us. The

outfit with which we started did not exceed fifty pounds each. Both of us rode diamond

truss-frame Fowler wheels, weighing 26 and 27 pounds each. The saddles were Christy

anatomical, with Palmer tires, and everything from handlebar to pedal was stoutly made.

Mrs. McIlrath wore the “rational” costume so often derided by dress reformers, and I may

say here, that had these same reformers witnessed the advantage of the “rational” cos-

tume upon some of the haps and mishaps which come to world’s tourists, their argu-

ments would be forever silenced. All of our luggage was carried in a leather case which

neatly fitted the inside angles of the bicycle frames. Our personal apparel consisted merely

of a change of underwear, as we depended upon the stores in towns along our route for

new clothes whenever we should need them. The remainder of our luggage cases con-

tained photograph films, medicines, repair outfits, etc. My “artillery,” for which there was

great use as it afterward happened, consisted of two 38-caliber and one 44-caliber

revolvers. ... (p. 9)

... Mrs. McIlrath, for six days out, was the most sea-sick woman that ever tossed in a

berth. She was unable to come on deck before Friday, Oct. 18, and rough weather, which

set in the next day, sent her below again, and thus she lost one of the prettiest parts of

our voyage across the Pacific. Monday, Oct. 21, was the shortest day I ever passed. It

lasted, strictly speaking, but seven hours, or from 12 o’clock to 7:15 a. m., at which time

the City of Pekin crossed the meridian. Having been constantly racing with the sun, and

so gaining time, at 7:16 o’clock we had entered upon Tuesday, Oct. 22. At 11:30 on the

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morning of the same day we caught our first sight of Japan, the white crest of the sacred

mountain, Fujiyama, looming in the distance. Monday evening, Oct. 28, at 8:15 o’clock,

the City of Pekin steamed into the harbor, having broken her record thirty-seven minutes.

The fact of the boat’s arrival ahead of time, made the hours so late before the steam

launches of the hotel arrived that we decided to remain on board the steamer until next

morning. We were still asleep Tuesday morning when the runners of the hotels roused us

by pounding upon our state-room door. The Club Hotel was the one we had selected, and

when the representative announced himself, we gave a list of our baggage and hastened

to dress. At the English hataba (a long pier running out into the bay) our baggage was

thoroughly overhauled by the customs officers, and upon our wheels and camera a duty

of five per cent was imposed. As cameras are listed at 50 yen and bicycles at 200 yen each,

this would have cost us in duty 22 yen 50 sen, or about twelve dollars in gold. After a

short conference and an ostentatious display of Secretary Gresham’s passports and the

Inter Ocean credentials, which the revenue officers had not understood, our articles were

franked and we entered the city. ...

The Club Hotel, which is the headquarters for American tourists and residents, is situ-

ated only a block from the pier and adjacent to the Consulates, shops and points of inter-

est. The owners and managers are Europeans, or “foreigners” as they are called in Japan,

but the service of the hotel is exclusively by natives. Your room is cared for by a “boy,”

your meals served by a “boy” and “boys,” sometimes 50 years of age, perform every pos-

sible service. There are without doubt more courtesies shown a guest in Japan than in any

other country. Our reception in the city was all that we could ask. The letter to Col.

McIvor, American Consul, from friends at his home in Cedar Rapids. Iowa, made us

thrice welcome at that gentleman’s residence. The fact of our representing an American

newspaper made us at home in newspaper circles, which are controlled largely by Ameri-

cans. Our coming had been heralded to the wheelmen of Japan, and as we were expected

some weeks before we arrived, the coming was of more than ordinary interest.

Bicycling, at the time of my visit, was just beginning to become popular in Japan, and

what machines were used were imported at great cost from the States and Europe. But

with commendable enterprise the manufacturers of Japan now perfect their own

machines, all parts of which are made and assembled in local concerns, operated by local

capital and mechanics. ...

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On Monday, Nov. 11, we journeyed over to Tokio, eighteen miles distant, to witness

the funeral ceremonies over the body of His Imperial Highness Prince Kitashirakawa, a

commander of the Imperial Guard. In tropical Formosa, under a fierce sun and amid

miasmatic jungle, the prince died of malarial fever Oct. 29. The sad news reached Japan

shortly after our arrival, but by a curious custom, was not announced to the people as

authentic or an accepted fact until officially given out by the imperial authorities on Nov.

5. In fact the Prince officially lived until that time. News of his victories in Formosa

brought forth new honors and distinctions, and upon Nov. 2, he, or rather the corpse, was

decorated with the Collar of the Chrysanthemum and Grand Cordon of the Imperial

Family. The service was simple, yet impressive, without a shade of paganism or supersti-

tion. There was much about it also that would befit countries, considering themselves

superior to Japan to imitate. One most noticeable was the order of the assembled masses.

Not a person offered to step outside of the prescribed limit. There was no jamming or

crowding. No voices spoke louder that a whisper, and the presence of police and militia

was necessary only as an exhibition of official dignity. Where houses of greater height

than one story faced on the line of march, or porches existed above the elevation of the

street, the curtains at windows and doors were closely drawn, and the occupants stood in

the street. No yelling, gesticulating mob filled the telegraph and telephone poles and

roofs, for it is not permissible in Japan that anyone look down upon the funeral of a dig-

nitary. The passage of the Emperor through the streets calls into effect the same condi-

tion. He may be viewed from an equal level, but never looked down upon from an

elevation.

I am glad to record that it is a mistaken impression that there exists in Japan, a general

feeling against Europeans and Americans. In any part of the Mikado’s realm the Ameri-

can is as safe as at home and the European is comparatively as secure. Why is this distinc-

tion of a degree made? During the late chastisement which Japan administered to China

the action was so one-sided that it could scarcely be called war. As soon as the Russians

interfered, threats were made by a few anarchistic extremists in Yokohama, Tokio and

other large cities, against the “white man” and his property. The simple minds of the rab-

ble of oriental nations do not regard the English, French, Russian and German subjects

as belonging to distinctive nations, but classify them as the “white man.” The ministers

and consuls at Tokio, during this excitement, were brought under guard to Yokohama.

Their residences were guarded by police, and when any of these gentlemen drove out in

carriages, they were surrounded by detectives, who were compelled to use force for the

passages of their vehicles through the streets. Not an act of violence occurred which

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reflected upon the local government in the slightest degree, but the satisfactory ending of

threatened murder and riot was due entirely to the vigilance of the secret service depart-

ment. Upon the other hand, when the United States Consul drove out there was no neces-

sity of a guard. A sight of the peerless colors of the United States emblazoned on the

carriage door, or the unmistakable uniform of the driver, and the sea of humanity which

filled the street would part, and with bows and cheers, allow our representative to go his

way. Policemen and officers saluted with caps in hand, while perhaps only a half square

away the guard of one of the other consuls struggled fiercely with an unyielding mob.

That is the reason I say an American is as safe from personal interference in any part of

Japan as in the heart of any of our great cities. An Englishman is, in fact, more secure

here than he would be in any of the acquired provinces of Great Britain.

The short rides of the Inter Ocean cyclists, taken in and about Yokohama, Kanagarua,

Mississippi Bay and Tokio, demonstrated to us the truth that the Japanese have not only

respect, but love for the Yankee. The roads of Japan compare favorably with the boule-

vards of American cities, except in matter of width. They are smooth, hard and upon the

sea coast quite level. One of the finest courses I have ridden over is a six-mile run we

took daily before breakfast in Yokohama. The course begins at the Club Hotel, along the

Bund to the Yalo Bashi, following this to the Haz-Aso-No Bashi and from there to Mis-

sissippi Bay, the Bluffs and back to the hotel.

The Inter Ocean tourists left Yokohama Monday, Nov. 18, having secured new pass-

ports for the interior, where the treaty laws do not extend protection or privileges to the

foreigner. Our destination was unknown even to ourselves, but as we were astride our

wheels it mattered little where we wound up, so long as interesting scenery and incidences

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were daily occurrences. One point, in main, was to form the center of a circle around

which we intended to swing, and that center was Fujiyama, the sacred mountain. To reach

the lower slopes of Fuji there are many pathways, but for cyclists there is but one that

may be practicably adopted, and that by way of Gotenba, Yamanka and Yoshida, “the

route of temples,” the course traveled by the native pilgrims to Fuji in summer months.

We took a southwesterly direction from Yokohama and came to a well ballasted wagon

road, running almost parallel with the railroad, connecting Tokio with Kobe, 400 miles

south. We passed through the villages of Fujisawa, Hiratsuka and Oisa, crossing the River

Vanugawa, and entering Kodsu, a village of large proportions, at noon. Kodsu is about

thirty miles from Yokohama, and it was here we had hoped to eat our lunch and find

drinking water in which we could place confidence. The one drawback to tourists in the

interior of Japan is water. In their natural condition the waters are pure, cool streams,

coursing down snow-clad mountains, miles in the interior, but passing through the vil-

lages, their course is diverted into ditches and water-boxes, running through the gutters

and sometimes under the houses of the town. The sewerage of surface drains empties

into these streams. Cooking utensils and food are washed, fish are cleaned and even dogs

drink from and bathe in these gutters. The same system of water supply exists in all of

Japan, and after we had struck Kodsu, Mrs. McIlrath and I drank only native-made beer

during our stay in the land of the Mikado.

At 1 o’clock we were again on the road, keeping with the railroad tracks until we

passed through Sakawagawa. Little was to be seen but rice and vegetable fields, the moun-

tains in the distance and the swift rushing river coursing to the sea. We covered 72 miles

by 7 o’clock, arriving at Gotenba, where we spent our first night in a Japanese yadoyo, or

inn. In a Japanese sleeping apartment there is nothing to be seen as one enters the room

except matting upon the floor. There is not a table, chair, bed or any other article of fur-

niture visible. We had begun to think that we were to pass the night on the floor as we

had done in the section houses of Nevada, when an attendant entered the room, bearing

cushions, and a second one came with a table, small affairs resembling unpadded foot-

rests, braziers with live coals and tiny bronze tea-kettles. The cushions were piled into soft

heaps about fourteen inches high, the tables placed between, and we were motioned to a

seat upon the cushions. To the right and left were placed box-like trays and in these our

food was served in dainty bowls and dishes. At 9 o’clock, when I thought it time to retire,

I clapped my hands for a servant. To the girl who answered I made known my wishes and

she called two assistants, who appeared, each bringing a pair of padded comforters. The

comforters were spread upon the matting in layers, and at the head of each was placed the

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Japanese substitute for a pillow, a box six inches square by twelve inches long, the upper

edge slightly padded. We passed a most comfortable night, and awakened only by the

maid entering our room with a tea set. After breakfast we called for our bill and the

amount rendered was two yen, or one dollar in gold. Bed, bath, breakfast and supper,

unequaled service and every attention in a first-class inn to be had at the rate of sixty

cents a day! By 9 o’clock we were again on the road with Fujiyama looming up thirty miles

away. From the guide, who had previously given us instructions, we knew which course to

take, and so turned up the fork apparently leading to the very root of the mountain. We

did not stop at Yamanaka village, but rode through the main streets, astounding the

natives and passing from their view, before they realized what had happened, except that

something unseen or unheard of before in Yamanaka had passed their way. From

Yamanaka to Yoshida our path was over level, smooth roads, but in the latter place we

were compelled to stop and consult our guidebooks and the police. At the police station,

before we were given any information, our passports were demanded. I produced mine,

but Mrs. McIlrath had left hers, the most necessary of her effects, behind. The officer

looked over my papers and then pointed to my wife. The passports had been made sepa-

rately at our request, and of course mine made no mention of Mrs. McIlrath. To gain

time and collect my wits I took the paper from the officer’s hands and glanced over the

copy attached, which was written in English. An idea “struck” me. My name was “parted

in the middle;” why not give my wife half of it? Calling the attention of the official to the

English copy, I pointed to “H. Darwin,” and then to my wife. Then laying my finger upon

the name “McIlrath,” I patted myself on the chest. The official referred to the Japanese

copy, I repeated the pantomime, he smiled and bowed, and making a few mystic charac-

ters upon the passport, he altered it to read, “H. Darwin, female, and McIlrath, male.” (pp.

32–38)

H. Darwin McIlrath. Around the World on Wheels for the Inter Ocean. The Travels and Adventures in

Foreign Lands of Mr. and Mrs. H. Darwin McIlrath. Compiled from Letters Written by Mr. McIlrath

and Published in The Sunday and Weekly Inter Ocean, from April, 1895, to November, 1898.

https://archive.org/details/aroundworldonwhe00mcil

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